I expect this is what death is like when you meet it. Sort of wildly unfair but inevitable.

That was the way with grief: it left you alone for months together until you thought that you were cured, and then without warning it blotted out the sunlight.

Fasting was good for the imagination but bad for logic.

You can't have a tin can tied to your tail and go through life pretending it isn't there.

One would expect boredom to be a great yawning emotion, but it isn't, of course. It's a small niggling thing.

Riches ... don't consist in having things, but in not having to do something you don't want to do. ... Riches is being able to thumb your nose.

There were people whose only interest in life was writing letters. To the newspapers, to authors, to strangers, to City Councils, to the police. It did not much matter to whom; the satisfaction of writing seemed to be all.